


Devioussss

by Anonymous



Series: Wee Omens [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bed-Wetting, How to discipline your demon, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omorashi, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 13:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20243611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Aziraphale has a little problem with bed-wetting if he forgets to sober up/extract all the wine from his system. Crowley is perversely fascinated by this fact.Crowley deliberately didn’t remind the angel to sober up, so Aziraphale went to bed with an intoxicated blood stream and a full bladder. Crowley knew exactly what this would do and is lying in wait to witness it, a naughty snake, under the covers...





	Devioussss

**Author's Note:**

> This series is a succession of more or less standalone short fics where Crowley and Aziraphale explore the intimacy and pleasure of wetting and/or desperation (beautifully coined by the Japanese word Omorashi). Sometimes sexual, sometimes more hurt/comfort. Prompts are welcome - be as specific as you like.

Aziraphale was warm and cosy under the covers, wearing his white night shirt and lying on his tummy. He was fast asleep, murmuring occasionally. 

Crowley on the other hand was lying awake listening to the angel’s light snores, hoping for an indication something forbidden was about to happen.

True enough, the angel's breath hitched. Crowley shifted into a small snake and slid under the duvet to investigate, relishing the ability see in the dark. It was lovely and warm under the covers. The sheet was still dry. But just then, Aziraphale let out a long sigh, and a puddle spread rapidly beneath him and started to soak into the bed. 

Crowley felt electric, witnessing this terribly intimate wrongdoing. The _bad_ angel. Crowley wriggled against the mattress, twisting in pleasure, as Aziraphale continued to obliviously wet the bed.

Outside the covers, face pressed into a pillow, Aziraphale groggily awoke from his dream about floating on a pond. He recognised immediately that familiar warmth and wet and swore under his breath. He had done it before. That damn wine. And now he was still doing it. In his tired haze he allowed himself to finish, too sleepy to care, and building himself up to performing the necessary miracle to clean up. Dopily, he seemed to remember asking Crowley to remind him to sober up. Crowley. Where was he? 

Aziraphale found himself quite awake as he peered over to the other side of the bed, eyes adjusting to the dark. No Crowley.  However, he noticed a quiver under the duvet. He knew immediately what this meant. Crowley had turned into a snake to have a _good look_, and watch the angel wet the bed. Aziraphale carefully peeled back the duvet cover. Snake Crowley was staring at the large wet spot on the mattress, his tongue flicking, while humping the sheet with frantic wriggling. He hadn’t noticed the duvet lift.

Aziraphale reached for him and picked him up. The snake instantly froze, then understanding he was well and truly caught, allowed himself to hang guiltily in the angel's hand, limp as a wet sock.

The angel sighed, glaring at his wicked snake. He got out of bed and crossed the room to open the bedroom door, and set the sorry looking snake down on the floor outside in the dark, cold corridor. 

He gave Crowley a hard look. 'You're to stay out here for the rest of the night.' 

The demon moped into the cold, hard floor as Aziraphale began to close the door, but the angel hesitated, finding it a challenge to discipline Crowley. He sighed. 

'If you want to come back in,' said Aziraphale. 'You’ll have to transform back. And if you transform back, rest assured you will get a smack on the bum. Your choice.'

The snake appeared pitiful and curled up in a sulk, so Aziraphale closed the door bedroom door and returned to the bed. He pulled a face at the soaked sheet, and looked down at his nightshirt which was sporting an almost see-through wet spot. He huffed and snapped his fingers, restoring his bedding and clothing to soft and dry. He smiled, but felt a little sad at the absence of his bed fellow. 

That's when there was a tentative knock at the door. Aziraphale opened it and took a good look at his very sheepish demon, who was human shaped again, in his black underclothes.

'I'm sorry,' muttered Crowley remorsefully. The angel sighed heavily but his eyes twinkled as he pulled Crowley into the room and closed the door. He gently ushered his demon towards the bed, giving his bottom the promised swat. It was so much more of a pat than a smack, but Crowley still felt bad that he'd caused his angel to do it. They climbed into bed and Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the subdued demon. They started to fall back to sleep. 

‘Angel,’ murmured Crowley. ‘I really am sorry.’

Aziraphale held him. ‘If you want to do that, all you have to do is ask.’

Crowley snuggled up amorously. ‘Can I?’ he started hopefully, pressing himself against his angel. He was still a very horny demon. He reached a hand out to touch Aziraphale's tummy.

‘No,’ said the drowsy angel, smacking the wandering hand away. That time, it did sting. Crowley withdrew his hand and whimpered as Aziraphale spoke sternly. ‘For now, my dear, you’re being punished. You can forget about your gratification until further notice. Now go to sleep and we'll talk about it in the morning. Bad boy.’ Regardless of the scolding, the angel spooned him tightly.

Crowley pouted himself to sleep, but dreamt of exactly what he wanted, and precisely what he'd be asking Aziraphale for. He slept very soundly indeed.


End file.
